


The Christmas That Changed Everything

by Avoca



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avoca/pseuds/Avoca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky seems to have lost his love for Christmas but before Hutch can work out what's wrong with his partner the pair become involved in a case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmas That Changed Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verlaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verlaine/gifts).



Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks to Deb and Annie

For Verlaine

The Christmas That Changed Everything

Hutch stood looking out at the sleepy ocean. He took a drag on the cigarette he was holding, and for a moment savored the nicotine as it hit his system. He exhaled slowly and repeated the process. For the few minutes it took to finish the Camel he tried to blank out his thoughts. This section of the beach was pretty quiet in the early afternoon, just a couple of die hard joggers and a young blonde woman walking her small black dog. Hutch tossed the butt into the waves, and running his fingers through his moustache, he turned and headed back up the beach, unaware that he was the focus of the dog owner’s interest. 

Hutch brushed his teeth and gargled with strong mouthwash but he knew the actions were pointless; his partner would know he had been smoking. He smiled at the silliness of his actions. Starsky was his partner, not some girl he had to impress on a date. What was more, Starsky wouldn’t comment on Hutch’s latest bad habit but he would know - and it was the ‘knowing’ that irritated Hutch. He closed his eyes and hoped that the headache he felt tapping at his brain wouldn’t materialize. Visions of the last six months came unbidden; Kira, Lionel, Marianne. Opening his eyes, he dismissed the dark thoughts and instead focused on his current concern. He’d have to tackle that one today. With new resolve he went to meet his partner.

Starsky pulled the Torino in beside the side walk where Hutch was waiting. Hutch got into the car and Starsky pulled into the light flow of traffic outside Venice Place. 

“Afternoon,” Starsky greeted Hutch while keeping his sun glass- covered eyes on the road. Hutch nodded and reached for the mic “Zebra Three, log us in at 3.45” he said.

A female voice broke back through the static. “Good afternoon Hutch, that’s a roger.”

“Take the girl out on a date; you’d be doing us all a favour” Starsky said without looking at his partner.

“What?”

“Tina, Christina, whatever, the new dispatcher has the hots for you so take her out.” Starsky glanced at him but with the dark glasses in place, Hutch was confused by what he said. He ignored Starsky’s comment and instead plunged into the topic that was uppermost in his mind. 

“Starsk, it’s a week before Christmas and there isn’t a tacky ornament in sight in the tomato, and you’re not singing annoying carols, so what gives?”

“I’m not in the mood for it this year I keep thinking of Lionel’s kid and maybe your natural Yuletide cynicism has finally won me over.”

An uncomfortable silence invaded the car. Suddenly Hutch felt deflated. One of the things he loved most about Starsky was his friend’s irrepressible joy at life and especially at small events. 

Starsky broke the silence. “Did you check the roster?” It was obviously a rhetorical question as he carried on. “We’re off for three days over Christmas so I thought I might go to New York but, it turns out Nicky’s got a new girlfriend whose folks have a place upstate and Ma and Nicky are going there. I couldn’t very well tag along on that.” Starsky turned a corner and Hutch made a pretence of studying the sidewalk. “Why don’t you spend Christmas with your folks?” 

Hutch stared at his partner. “My folks are going to Florida for the holidays. Anyway, we always spend it together. You know, drop in on the Dobeys, and on Molly and Kieko.”

Starsky eyed Hutch over the top of his glasses. “The Dobeys are going to Edith’s sister’s in San Diego. That’s probably why the Captain gave us the same days off so we wouldn’t annoy his replacement. Plus I thought you told me Keiko, his Mom and Molly were invited to some relative’s place.”

“You’re right - I’d forgotten that. So it looks like it’s just you and me, buddy?” Hutch said in as casual a tone as he could muster.

A blast of static from the radio and a message made Starsky’s answer unnecessary. “Zebra Three respond to a code 2 on Foundry Street.”

“Zebra Three; we are responding.” Hutch’s voice filled the car as Starsky checked his rear-view mirror and executed a U turn. Hutch reached for the Mars light. 

The Torino squealed to a halt behind two black and whites that were parked fender to fender blocking the entrance to Foundry Street. Starsky shed his sunglasses as he and Hutch emerged from the car. They were waved through the police cordon by a red -haired rookie called Thompson or Thomas – something like that, Hutch thought as he nodded at the young man. Half way down the street several men in uniforms and suits were gathered around a blanket covered shape on the street. 

“What a salubrious neighborhood to die in” Starsky muttered as they approached the body.

“Well it’s on our beat so what does that say about us?” Hutch responded. 

Exactly what I was thinking, Blondie.”

“Mac, you made it before us” Starsky greeted a bald headed man in his mid forties who was standing beside the sheet covered body.  
“What can I say, Starsky? I was near here when I got the call. It’s a lousy neighborhood but there’s a deli three blocks over that does the best stuffed grape leaves you’ve ever tasted. I was picking some up for my mother in law.”

“You must love your in-laws” Hutch said as he bent over the body and pulled up the sheet.

“No I hate my mother in law but I love my wife so that’s the trade off.” 

Starsky hunkered down beside his partner “What have we got?” he asked.

“We have a dead male Caucasian. Looks like one shot to the heart, probably small calibre - 22, would be my guess. Happened some time last night and I can’t give you anything else until I get him on the table.”

“Do we have a name?” Hutch asked no one in particular as he and Starsky studied the dead man’s features. 

The man had long, dark brown hair and his face was thin. Starsky pushed the victim’s shirt sleeve up and nodded to Hutch when he saw the needle puncture marks punctured along the forearm. The coroner waited for the detectives to finish their examination of the body and as they stood up he spoke up. “It’s obvious the victim was a user but my guess is that he knew his attacker. Looking at the only visible wound it looks like the gun was pushed right up against his chest.”

“Thanks, Mac. Call us when you have anything else.” Starsky said. 

Hutch was looking at a driver’s license in a clear plastic evidence bag that an older balding uniformed officer had just handed him. 

“Thanks, Ben. Who found the body?”

 

“A working girl, Betty Holmes.” he said, pointing to a tall white girl with long brown hair who was standing with another police officer at the entrance to a small alley.  
“The license has expired, Hutch, but I radioed the name in when we got here. Dean Smith” 

“Thanks, Ben I appreciate it.” Hutch turned to Starsky and both men walked over to the girl.

Betty Holmes was smoking a cigarette, and for a moment Hutch felt a strong compulsion to reach out and take a drag on it. 

“Detective Hutchinson and this is my partner, Detective Starsky.” Starsky nodded at the young woman. Hutch continued, “We believe you found the body.” 

 

Betty took a long drag on the cigarette. “Yeah, I worked late last night so I slept in this morning. I wanted some coffee but I was all out of milk. I hate black coffee. Anyway, I was going to the store on Fourth when I spotted Dean. At first I figured he was sleeping it off but when I bent down I realized he was dead. Then I saw the blood. Man it freaked me out! I ran to the end of the street and waited until I saw a cop car and waved them down.” She took another drag of the diminishing cigarette.

 

“You knew the victim?” Hutch asked. 

“Yeah, Dean something or other. He’s a small time user and sometime pusher.” Betty shifted uncomfortably and looked from one partner to the other. “Look, I don’t want to get into any kind of trouble.”

Hutch smiled at her. “You won’t. We just want to know about the victim and if you saw anyone hanging around here.”

“I didn’t see anybody. Hey I’ve given the other cop my address so can I go now?”

“Sure, Betty,” Starsky took up the questioning, “Just one more thing; do you know anybody who’d want to kill Dean?”

“Take your pick. Dean was a lowlife who always owed money to somebody or other.”

“Thank you for your time, Betty.” Hutch beamed at the girl. 

She tossed her cigarette butt on the ground and walked off. Starsky watched her walk away and turned to Hutch. “Well, it seems like our victim was a pillar of the community.”

Both men walked towards the Torino, avoiding the gurney on which Dean Smith’s earthly remains, were being wheeled to the waiting coroner’s wagon. 

Back in the Torino a few minutes later, Hutch requested the information on the victim and was given an address about six blocks from the murder scene. Starsky started the car. "Come on, let's go make someone's Christmas." Hutch didn't reply.

Starsky pulled up in front of a grey stone four story building, which was as run down as the neighboring houses on either side. They entered a grimy hall lit only by one stark bulb that shed just enough light to read a hand-painted sign on the wall. "Rooms to let- by the week” They were looking for apartment 202 so they headed for the second floor, taking the stairs two at a time and ignoring the smell of rotting garbage. 

The door to apartment 202 had once been painted white but now it was a dull grey and the slot for a name tag was empty. Starsky didn't even bother to look for a bell. Instead he knocked twice in quick succession on the door. The apartment appeared quiet, in contrast to the noise of some afternoon game show blaring from apartment 201.

Hutch looked around as Starsky raised his eyebrows asking the silent question should they break in? Hutch shrugged and Starsky read his partner's unspoken reply. 

"Okay, I'll try once more, but then we go in. I don't think this place has a super, do you?" Starsky rapped twice again. Just then the detectives heard a low squeak and the door was opened just enough for the face of a young woman to be seen.

Hutch reached for his badge and held it up for the woman's inspection. "Police officers, Ma’am.Is this the home of Dean Smith?"

The young woman pulled the door open. "What's he done now? He isn't here. You can search if you want to." She moved to one side and as she did so the detectives exchanged a glance. The girl was pregnant.

"No, we know he isn't here I'm Detective Hutchinson, and this is my partner, Detective Starsky." 

The young woman sighed and led them into the apartment. The room was a mess with empty beer cans and dirty coffee mugs littering a long, low table which stood in front of a sagging couch. The girl sat down awkwardly on the faded, floral-patterned couch. She had dark limp brown hair that fell to her shoulders, she was pale, and the shadows under her eyes were so dark that Hutch was reminded of a toy panda. She wore a plain grey sweat shirt that pulled taut over her protruding belly and a pair of black stretch pants. She wasn't wearing shoes, just black woollen socks. She reached for a packet of cigarettes that was lying on the arm rest and lit one of them.

"You live with Dean, Miss?" Hutch asked.

"Yeah, Jenny, I'm Jenny Griffin. Look let's skip the questions and just tell me what you want." The girl took a drag on her cigarette as she finished speaking.

For a moment Hutch felt a strong urge to take a cigarette from the pack but he pressed on "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Dean was found dead just -”

"Jesus!" the girl interrupted. "You get who did it?" she asked before her face contorted and the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"How did you know he was murdered?" Starsky asked as Hutch looked around the room trying to find tissues.

“He was a small time hustler, always pissing somebody off."

Hutch located a roll of pale pink toilet paper on the grimy window sill opposite the door, and handed it to the girl. 

"So who did he piss off this time, Jenny?" Starsky asked.

The girl pulled off a few sheets of the pink paper and dabbed ineffectively at her eyes. "I don't know he usually managed to stay one step ahead of the posse." She eyed the detectives. "Look, I really don't know."

"When's the baby due?" Hutch asked in a kind tone.

"About six weeks. Dean was so mad when I told him I was pregnant but then he figured we could have the baby adopted by some rich couple and make some money." 

Jenny stubbed out her cigarette in a plastic ash tray that was half full of butts. "He came to an appointment with my social worker and played real nice, but she knew what he was getting at. She told him that babies like mine are hard to place with couples." 

Jenny sniffed and blew her nose. She carried on without meeting either of the partners' eyes. "My baby is going to be born addicted to drugs just like me and everybody wants a perfect baby, so there'll be no big pay out for us. After that Dean's attitude changed, but it was too late to get rid of the baby."

Hutch caught Starsky's eye but addressed his remarks to the girl "Do you or Dean have family?"

"No, all we've got is each other." Jenny sobbed again.

"They've taken Dean’s body to the city morgue. You'll probably have to identify his body officially. Is there anybody who can help you with that?" Hutch asked gently.

"My social worker is all right. I'll ask her to come with me" Jenny answered in a low voice.

"Why don't you give me her name and number I'll call her for you and get her to make the arrangements" Hutch sat on the edge of the crowded coffee table and smiled softly at the girl.

"You'd do that for me?" She sniffed again. "Thanks." The girl rummaged around the clutter on the coffee table and pulled a small, official-looking business card from the pile.

Hutch copied the name and phone number into his notebook and stood up “ I’m sorry for your loss and I'm sure your social worker will be in touch."

The girl stood up and the wad of toilet tissue fell to the floor. "This changes things. I'll have to keep the baby it’s the only thing I have left that's a part of him." The girl saw the look the detectives exchanged. "I know he was no good but you can't help who you love."

"Ain't that the truth?" Starsky said, his blue eyes fixed on Hutch.

Hutch swallowed slowly and patted the girl's arm. "Look after yourself." he said.

They were well on their way to Parker Center before either of the men spoke. It was Starsky who broke the silence.

"Sounds like our victim was a real humanitarian."

"Yeah, trying to sell a baby is stooping pretty low." Hutch answered without looking at his partner.

The partners completed some reports and Hutch managed to contact Jenny's social worker who agreed to look in on the girl and offer her whatever support she could. Starsky called The Pits and asked Huggy to find out all he could about the victim. Huggy didn't know Dean Smith but said he'd ask around. They filled Captain Dobey in about the murder and spent the next few hours patrolling their beat.

They were due to finish their shift at midnight so at about 10 pm, they stopped in at The Pits. Even Hutch was too hungry to opt for a salad so they both ordered burgers. Huggy filled them in on what he had learned as the partners ate. There wasn't much to tell. Smith was a 'regular low life', as Huggy put it. Sometimes pusher but mostly user, but as far as the Bear could ascertain nobody in particular was out to get Smith The word on the street was that his murder wasn't a 'hit'. Huggy went back to his busy bar after sharingthe information.

Hutch wiped his mouth on a paper napkin emblazoned with a red nosed reindeer and the words, 'Yuletide at The Pits is a Groove Time'. "Well, we don’t have much to go on, do we?" he said.

Starsky swallowed a mouthful of beef before he replied. "We've often had less. Since it looks like it wasn’t a professional hit, maybe it was something more personal?"

Hutch wanted to mention Christmas, but he hesitated. Things were getting back on track between him and Starsky and he didn't want to do or say anything that might undermine that. Starsky finished his food and drank down the last of his soda.

"How about we hit the streets? Check out the neighborhood and for once finish on time?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me." Hutch answered and followed Starsky out of the bar. Starsky waved at Huggy and mouthed 'tab' as they passed a very busy Huggy who rolled his eyes, heavenward and nodded.

They cruised their beat and sorted out a couple of small disturbances, but it seemed as if the criminal fraternity of Bay City was taking a rest for the Christmas season as nothing too serious occurred. At midnight, just as Hutch went to log them out the dispatcher informed him that Captain Dobey had requested that the partners come in at 9am instead of 4 pm the next day. Hutch acknowledged the request. 

Starsky pulled up outside Hutch's building "Good night, Starsk." Hutch said as he reached to open the door.

"Damn! That early start tomorrow means I'll have to change my plans" Starsky responded.

"You had something planned for the morning?"

"Just shopping, I've left it kind of late this year and I was hoping to pick up a few things in the morning." Starsky sat ready to drive off. Hutch wanted to say something but didn't instead he swung the car door open but stopped short as Starsky grabbed his arm. "Are you definitely staying in town for Christmas, Hutch?"

Hutch slid back into the car. It was silly but he always got a warm feeling from Starsky's casual touches. For a moment he didn't want to go into his empty apartment. He wanted to stay sitting in the silly souped up tomato with his partner. "I'm not going anywhere, Starsk."

"Well, it looks like it will just be the two of us, Hutch. My place or yours? Starsky asked in a seriously bad Groucho voice while trying to wiggle his eyebrows. The actions appeared somewhat muted in the glow of the interior car light and the street lamps, but even so Hutch found himself smiling.

"I don't care, Starsk .Wherever you want is good for me.”

“Okay, let’s make it my place.” Starsky turned the ignition. "I'll pick you up about 8.30." Starsky removed his hand and for the briefest moment Hutch felt a sadness descend. He forced himself out of the car saying, “Great, Starsk, see you then”

Chapter 2

Starsky let himself into Hutch's apartment as Hutch was drinking milk from the carton. Starsky snagged the carton as Hutch removed it from his mouth.   
"Didn't your Momma ever tell you not to drink from the carton?" Starsky asked. He poured a cup of coffee from the pot which Hutch had brewed and poured in some of the milk before handing the carton back to his partner.

"Yep, she told me but who listens to their mother?"

Starsky added several spoons of sugar to his cup and drank as Hutch finished off the milk from the carton. They went straight to Parker Center and actually managed to enter the squad room at 9am by the official police department clock on the wall. Dobey opened his office door and barked "Starsky, Hutchinson."

Starsky entered the lion's den first closely followed by Hutch. Dobey sat behind his desk and looked at them. "I know you weren't supposed to come in until 4pm but I want all reports up to date before I take off for the holidays so I thought you could spend the time catching up.”

The partners exchanged a look and headed out of the office, both of them muttering, “Sure thing, Captain" Relief was evident in their eyes at the triviality of the request but before they could make the proverbial 'quick getaway' Dobey spoke again but this time his voice softened. "Edith wants to know if you two will be spending Christmas in Bay City." 

"Yeah, Cap'n, Hutch and I are going to relax for a few days" Starsky replied.

"That's good Starsky, Edith told me to ask you both to drop over in the next few days and collect some dishes she has made for you." Dobey shuffled papers on his desk

"We will Captain, tell Edith thanks and tell Rosie and Cal we're looking forward to seeing them." Starsky smiled and both detectives left the office.

Starsky poured two cups of coffee and placed one in front of Hutch and both men got down to filling in reports. Starsky had just begun to get bored when the phone on Hutch's desk rang. The blond man grabbed it saying "Hutchinson" a minute later he said "Thanks Mac, we're on the way." Hutch turned his attention to his partner. "Mac found something interesting and wants us to go to the morgue."

Both men snagged their leather jackets from the backs of their chairs. "Well, even the Coroner's Office has got to be more interesting than typing out reports" Starsky commented on their way to the car.

The grey- haired coroner greeted the detectives with a nod of his head when they entered the morgue twenty minutes later. "What have you got for us, Mac?" Hutch asked.

"I've got a match on the bullet I removed from Dean Smith; it's a .22 all right but the same gun was used to kill another victim three days ago." Mac said handing a manila file to Hutch.

Hutch opened the file and Starsky moved in right beside him as both men perused the documents. Hutch read aloud, "John Hartman, male Caucasian, aged 26, known drug user / pusher, nearest relative is a girlfriend by the name of Gloria Stedman." 

Starsky interrupted "He was found on Brinkman and Third; that's very near our patch. Who were the investigating detectives?" he asked as he moved away from Hutch.

"Moore and Roberts" Hutch replied before closing the file and handing it back to the coroner. "Mac, was it the sameM.O.?"

Mac took the file from Hutch. "It was up close and personal, just like your victim."

"Thanks, Mac" Hutch said. Both detectives walked away and Starsky turned just as Hutch pulled the door open. "Merry Christmas, Mac" he said and smiled at the coroner.

Mac's return greeting was lost as the partners exited the building. 

Starsky and Hutch drove straight over to the next precinct and spoke to Moore and Roberts, who turned out to be experienced detectives in their fifties and immediately shared the information they had gathered on the victim, John Hartman, which wasn't much. The older men were more than pleased to pass their case on to the two younger detectives and cleared it with their commanding officer who in turn called Dobey and within an hour Starsky and Hutch had taken over the case and it had now become a double homicide. 

The first thing the detectives decided to do was to re- interview Hartman's listed next of kin: his girlfriend Gloria Stedman. Hutch called out her address from the file which rested on his knee as Starsky drove. The late John Hartman's apartment was situated over a five and dime store which had a separate street entrance behind the shop. Starsky pressed a doorbell with the name G. Stedman written in ballpoint on a small card below it. A woman's voice came over the intercom. "Who is it?"

"Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson" Starsky answered. 

The interview with John Hartman's girlfriend or 'fiancée' as she referred to herself shed little or no light on the case. Gloria Stedman was a bleached blonde prostitute with an incredible figure and fast fading looks. Hartman, she informed the detectives had family 'back east' but they had long since disowned him and she had listed herself as his next of kin because she had no idea how to contact them.

The interview took place in a two roomed tenement apartment, Stedman chain smoked as she stood leaning against a rickety wooden breakfast bar; she was older than Jenny Griffin with lines already finding a home around her mouth and eyes. Hutch's mind nodded as she prattled on about 'poor John' and how they were going to get married as soon as John 'scored a big one'.

The girl had a voluptuous figure and it was obvious that Starsky was watching her breasts as she spoke; Hutch felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him. For a minute he completely forgot about the case and his only thoughts were centered on his partner. What would it be like to be wanted by Starsky? Wanted in a real and physical way? Hutch felt the answer as his tan cords became tight around his crotch. Jesus Christ? Am I actually fantasizing about Starsky? Could I be jealous of some floozy with big boobs? ? His hardening penis was his all too apparent answer.

Hutch became aware that Starsky's attention was off the girl and he was looking at Hutch and asking him a question.

"What, Starsk?" Hutch asked, hoping desperately that he wasn't turning pink under his partner's gaze.

“I just asked had you any other questions or are we finished with Miss Stedman?" Starsky's voice sounded normal.

"No, I think we've covered everything." He turned his attention to the girl. "We'll be in touch if we have anything further. Thanks for your time."

The partners made their way quickly to the door of the building and emerged into the hazy sunshine. "Hutch, are you okay?" Starsky asked.

"Yeah, fine" Hutch snapped back and quickened his pace towards the car.

Once inside the Torino Starsky didn't start the engine. Instead he turned to face his partner. "Hutch, is there anything you want to talk about? You've been a little wired lately." Starsky sounded worried.

"I'm all right, Starsky, just cut me some slack. The last few months haven't exactly been a walk in the park." Hutch's anger was palpable in the confined space of the car. 

Still Starsky didn't start the engine. "I know, buddy, for me neither, but we'll get through it, just like we always do." Starsky finished by patting Hutch's knee and turning the key in the ignition.

Hutch exploded. "For Christ's sake, Starsky you make us sound like a married couple going through a rough patch; fuck it, we're not MacMillan and Wife." Hutch was almost shouting.

Starsky kept the engine running but didn't pull away from the sidewalk. "Why are you so angry all the time?" His question was softly spoken.

Hutch looked away from his partner; he needed to get away from Starsky's piercing blue eyes. "I don't know." 

Starsky pulled out on to the street and silence reigned in the car. They drove back to Parker Center and Starsky wrote up the notes on the cases while Hutch pretended he was studying the case file. Starsky poured two cups of coffee and placed one in front of his partner without saying anything. Hutch nodded his appreciation and Starsky returned to his seat. 

Hutch drank the coffee without tasting it and when it was finished he put the file down. Starsky immediately leaned across the desk and picked it up. Hutch collected Starsky's cup. "Do you want a refill?" he asked.

"No, thanks" Starsky answered without taking his eyes off the file. Hutch went to the men's room and when he re-entered the squad room Starsky was standing up, pulling on his battered brown leather jacket. "I've got a few things to do; I'll be back in a couple of hours." He added as an afterthought "I've cleared it with Dobey so you don't have to cover for me." He was gone before Hutch could reply.

 

Starsky found a parking space a few blocks away from a couple of shops he had spotted a few weeks before when he had been in the area looking for books on a subject that had become somewhat of a fascination for him. It was an old area of the city and it housed small stores; each one somewhat quirky and selling unusual and sometimes specialized or out and out weird and wonderful things. Starsky loved the stores and had been back several times to the neighborhood since his first visit. Within an hour he had made his purchases and he dropped into the book shop that had been the reason for his initial visit. The two silver haired men sitting behind the well worn wooden counter looked up and smiled when Starsky entered. He nodded to them and spent the next ten minutes browsing the well-stocked shelves. He chose a book and made his way to the till. One of the men - they looked so alike they were almost interchangeable took the book and as he rang up the sale said "It's nice to see you back, you're getting quite a taste for our literature." 

Starsky blushed. "Well, you do have some very interesting books." 

The other man who was sitting at the edge of the counter looked up from the book he was reading. "Bill, leave that young man alone, don't drive our customers away." His eyes crinkled as he spoke and he smiled warmly at Starsky. "Don't mind us, we're always glad to see a new face return and if you need any help or advice just ask. My name is Jim."

Starsky smiled "Thanks but I think I have found what I was looking for." Starsky took his purchase, which was in a brown paper sack with no name on it, and left the shop. Starsky put the few packages in the trunk of the Torino and headed back to Parker Center.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Hutch was eating a sandwich at his desk when Starsky entered the squad room. Starsky's stomach rumbled as he sat down and Hutch looked up. 

"Damn, I was so busy I forgot to get something for lunch" Starsky said as he slid in behind his desk.

Hutch picked up the untouched half of his sandwich from the paper plate in front of him and handed it to his partner. "Peace offering?" he asked.

"Thanks" Starsky said and took the proffered food. 

Hutch filled him in on what he had put together on the case. He spoke of the victims being almost interchangeable and the M.O. of the murderer but Starsky’s thoughts returned to that moment when he had held Hutch in his arms after the car explosion. Later he felt guilt over Lionel’s death but at the time, cradling Hutch’s head, all he could feel was relief. Was that the moment when Starsky’s feelings for his partner had changed? Or was their relationship organic in nature, still growing and changing?

“Starsk!” Hutch’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Have you heard anything I said?” he asked.

“Yeah, same M.O. and almost identical victims, so logically there’s a link and all we have to do is find it.”

Hutch laughed. “Yeah, just find the link and we have our perp. So any suggestions, Sherlock?”

“I’d say you have all the bases covered.” Starsky flashed a smile at Hutch.

“Well so far there’s no obvious link. I’ve called Jenny Griffin’s social worker to get her to ask the girl if she knew John Hartman; she’ll get back to me and I thought we’d take a trip to Hartman’s girlfriend to see if she knew Smith.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Gloria Stedman, Hartman’s fiancée had never heard of Dean Smith. After leaving there, Mildred, the dispatch operator, passed them a message saying Miriam Kawasaki, Griffin’s social worker had called to say Griffin had not known Hartman. The rest of the shift passed quickly as a comfortable air of friendship pervaded the car. It was just after midnight when Starsky dropped Hutch off at Venice Place and made his way home.

The shrill ring of the telephone woke Starsky and he noticed the display of 3.30 as he snagged the phone. “Starsky,” he muttered as he sat up . He listened for a few moments, said “Okay. ‘Leaping Lou’s’ on Milmount, I’ve got it. Have you called Hutch? No that’s all right I’ll do it.” Starsky hung up and dialled the familiar number. “Hutch, looks like we’ve, got another victim. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

Twenty three minutes later Starsky pulled the Torino in where Hutch stood yawning on the sidewalk outside Venice Place.  
“What have we got?” Hutch said as he slid into the passenger seat.  
“Not much, gunshot victim; must be the same M.O. as the other victims.”

Starsky drove through near deserted streets and pulled into a space behind a cruiser. Almost before the Torino had come to a halt a young uniformed officer approached the passenger door and said, “Looks like the same M.O. as the double homicide, you’re working on.” He prattled on eagerly. “Our duty officer told us about the double murder case you and detective Hutchinson are working on and so when my partner and I saw the victim we radioed through.”

Hutch sighed. “I’m Hutchinson, he’s Starsky.” The young officer ignored the information and carried on. “The victim is a black male in his late twenties, he had been drinking in the bar and he was found by a bartender on a break. That guy over there.” The officer pointed to a large white man standing in the doorway of the bar.

Starsky and Hutch walked over to the man who was smoking a cigarette. Hutch flashed his badge and introduced himself and Starsky. The man took a long drag on his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, squashing it with one of his sneaker shod feet. The man’s face was illuminated by a strong light hanging just inside the open door. The man exhaled and focussed on the detectives. Before either asked a question, he pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke. “My name is Jack Reynolds, I’m 45 years old, and as you can see, a male Caucasian. I’ve been working in this joint for the last four years. I have a record for G.T.A. but I’ve been keeping my nose clean for the past 7 years.” Reynolds moved his hand away from his face and looked hard at the detectives.” Your victim is called Harry Plinth , he drinks in the neighbourhood. He’s a pimp and a drug user. I came out to have a smoke on my break and I almost fell over his body. I checked to see if he was dead and called the cops from the phone behind the bar. That’s all she wrote.” 

Hutch passed Starsky a long glance but his partner just shrugged his shoulders so Hutch began. “That’s a very succinct statement, Jack.”

“I didn’t kill him and I’ve no idea who did. He wasn’t exactly the most popular guy on the block. Reynolds fidgeted with a silver key chain he took from his pocket.

“I wasn’t suggesting you did, Jack. However I have a few questions for you.” Hutch said. “Do you know where the victim lived?” 

“He has an apartment somewhere on Honey Street.”

“You said he was a pimp, do you know any of his girls?”

“He has one that hangs out with him a lot, I think he lives with here; her name is Denise; there used to be a couple more but I haven’t seen them in a while. Look, can I go now?”

“Not quite yet, who was in the bar when Harry was there?”

“A few regulars, your guys are talking to them.”

“All right, just one more question, Jack, did you see anyone leave just before or at the same time as Harry?

“No, he left alone about 20 minutes before I found him and no one followed him.”

“Are you sure, Jack?” Starsky asked.

“Yeah, there was just the usual late night drinkers, all pretty much regulars. Maggie left about ten minutes before Harry.”

“Who’s Maggie?” Starsky asked.

“She’s an older lady who looks a lot like Grandma Walton. She comes in from time to time; drinks one bourbon and after that orders a couple of ginger ales and passes the time. She’s kind of a mother figure to the hookers. “ Harry answered.

“What’s her surname and where does she live?” Starsky asked.

“I don’t know; that’s all I know about her.”

“All right; thanks for the statement.”

Starsky and Hutch followed Jack into the bar. There were only two women and a police officer inside.  
“Were there more customers?” Hutch asked Jack.

“A couple more but they left before the cop cars arrived” he answered.

One of the uniformed officers approached Hutch.  
“Hutch, it’s like dealing with the two wise monkeys; the girls didn’t hear or see anything and they sure as hell aren’t saying anything.”

“Thanks, Marty, Starsky and I’ll give it a go.” 

The detectives walked up to the bar and Starsky raised his voice. “Well, ladies it’s been a long night and I know you girls would like to get home to your own beds for a change, so here’s what Hutch and I need from you.” Starsky smiled as he spoke. “One, we need the exact address of the recently deceased Harry Plinth and two, we need some information on Maggie.” He stopped speaking and stood looking at the girls.  
A bleached blonde woman in her late twenties who was wearing a short black leather miniskirt spoke up. “Harry lives with Denise at 24 Honey Street” she said and stood up from her stool.

“Thank you, Miss…?” Starsky responded by giving the girl a wide smile.

“Reichs; Shirley Reichs” she responded 

Starsky beamed at her. “Now, Miss Reichs, or may I call you Shirley? What do you know about Maggie?”

The other woman at the bar spoke. She was younger with bright red curls. “What do you want with Maggie?” she asked  
“We believe she left the bar a short while before Harry and we’d like to talk to her to see if she saw anything. She’s not in trouble” Starsky reassured the girls.

Hutch cut in “We’re afraid she might have seen somebody, perhaps the murderer so it’s important that we speak with her.”

There was silence in the bar. Hutch continued on. “Ladies, we’re not the bad guys.”

The younger girl looked at the older one who nodded and then the girl spoke. “Maggie’s nice; I guess she’s lonely. Some nights she chats to us, just small talk about our lives and our men.” The younger woman looked again at the older one and she appeared to get some kind of signal because she carried on. “A few weeks ago I had a quiet night and John, my boyfriend, got mad at me and hit me. I had a split lip and when Maggie came in she noticed and came over to me. She told me I should leave John and get out of this life, she pressed 20 bucks into my hand so that I’d have something to give him later and she bought me a drink. She slipped me her phone number and told me if I ever needed someone to call her.” The girl pulled a small piece of paper from her ample cleavage and handed it to Hutch. “Could you just copy the number? I’d like to hang on to the one she gave me?” She sounded shy.

“Sure” Hutch said as he took the paper and wrote the number in his notebook. “Thanks…?”   
“Maxine” she answered.  
“Thanks, Maxine.” he said.

Chapter Three

The detectives found 24 Honey Street and it was obvious that the Bay City planners had a sense of humor as Honey Street was one of the ugliest streets in the city; greystone buildings sat on a dirty, littered side walk. Bad examples of graffiti covered most of the walls and the two or three shops that poked out from the apartment buildings were not of the Mom and Pop variety. Starsky locked the Torino and they headed for number 24, which was just as rundown as its neighbors. 

Denise was a skinny girl in her mid twenties with badly dyed copper red hair. She was shocked and upset by the news the detectives imparted and told them through her tears that Harry’s mother, Sally, lived on Maple Street. She asked them to give her a lift to Sally’s place so she could tell her the news before street rumors made their way to her. The drive to Maple Street was done in silence, only broken by Denise’s quiet sobs.  
“Sometimes this job stinks” Hutch said as they drove away from Harry’s mother’s apartment.  
“Yeah, even slime balls have mothers” Starsky replied.

“Think I’ll call my mom tonight, it’s been a while since we spoke” Hutch said without taking his eyes off the sidewalks he was scanning.

“Do you want to get an address for the mysterious Maggie from that phone number, Hutch?”  
“Yeah, it’s not much of a lead but it’s all we’ve got and who knows we might get lucky and maybe she’ll have seen something suspicious” Hutch answered.

Hutch grabbed the mic and made a request for the address where the phone number was connected and also for Maggie’s surname. 

“Do you want to grab breakfast before we head to Parker?” Starsky asked.

“Might as well, I could sure kill a coffee” Hutch answered.

Maggie’s house looked a little forlorn standing against the other houses, which were festooned in Christmas lights and ornaments.  
“Hutch, you have something in common with Maggie, she obviously doesn’t like Christmas either” Starsky said.

Hutch rang the bell and within a few moments the front door opened as much as the safety chain would allow. “Hello” a woman’s voice said from behind it.

Hutch pulled the screen door open, produced his I. D, and showed it in the gap of the door, as he introduced himself and his partner.

The chain was released and the door opened to reveal a small, grey haired woman dressed in black pants and a grey jumper. Hutch exchanged a look with Starsky, silently confirming the description they had been given; Maggie did resemble Grandma Walton, small framed with a wrinkled face and kind grey eyes.

“What can I do for you officers?” she asked as she waved them into the house and closed the door behind them.

Hutch took the lead while Starsky viewed his surroundings. They were in a hall which was clean and well presented.“Ma’am, we believe you were in ‘Leaping Lou’s’ bar last night?”

“Yes, yes, I was. Why? Is something wrong?” the woman asked nervously.

“There was a murder committed outside of the bar in the early hours of the morning and we were wondering if you saw anything suspicious as it appears you left the bar a few minutes before the victim?” Hutch said. 

“Oh my, that’s awful, come into the kitchen and we can talk there.” The woman headed into the kitchen and the detectives followed her. The kitchen had a ‘lived in’ feel to it, there were a couple of magazines lying on a small table perched against the farther wall and a coffee percolator bubbled beside the sink. The men declined coffee and the woman poured herself a cup and climbed on to a high stool, which was one of four in a row beside a cluttered counter.

“Can you tell us about last night, Mrs Wilson?” Hutch asked, smiling at her.

Oh, call me Maggie, everybody does.” She wrapped her fingers around the cup and continued on. “I’m an insomniac, have been since my husband died fourteen years ago.” She smiled and took a sip of her coffee. “One night about eight months ago I just couldn’t stand lying in my bed awake so I went for a drive and I found myself in a neighborhood I’d never been in before and I did something totally out of character. I went into a bar and had a drink.” Maggie laughed. “I know what you’re thinking because I am sure Ted, my late husband would have thought the same thing; what was a lady of my years doing drinking alone in a bar in a bad area? What can I say? I was lonely and sad and there was life in the bar. Well, anyway I discovered I liked going to late night bars, sometimes, and don’t worry, Officers, I only ever have one drink and I switch to ginger ale after that.”

“Is it always ‘Leaping Lou’s’ you go to, Ma’am?” Hutch asked.

“Oh no, Detective, sometimes it’s ‘Ronnie’s’ or ‘Barney’s Bar.’” The woman laughed.

Starsky took the lead. “Did you notice anything when you left ‘Lou’s’?”

“Nothing, Detective, my car was parked just down from the bar. I had my keys in my hand, I always get them before I leave so that I am ready to go, just in case there’s trouble. The man that was murdered? What was his name?”

There was silence for a moment, which Starsky broke and said “Plinth, Harry Plinth, did you know him, Maggie?”

Maggie hesitated as if trying to recall something and said, “No, no can’t say that I do but you know I don’t know many men from the bars. It’s mostly the bar tenders and the girls I talk to.”

“Well, thanks for your time, Maggie we’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.” Starsky smiled at the woman and the detectives left the house. They didn’t speak until they were back in the car. 

“How did she know the victim was a man?” Starsky asked

“I noticed that too but to be fair, Starsk, she probably just assumed it was a man.”

Starsky stared at his partner “No it doesn’t add up; two cops arrive at her door to tell her there was a murder committed just after she left a bar and she doesn’t ask immediately if it was one of the women she knows; something is not quite right about Grandma Walton.”

Blue on blue; each man was submerged in the other one’s eyes. Hutch broke the spell. “Let’s check her out more thoroughly.”

Starsky started the car and Hutch used the mic to request all available information on Margaret Wilson. 

Later in the day the coroner confirmed that Harry Plinth had been killed with a bullet fired from the same gun as the other two victims. Just after that call came through a print out on ‘Margaret Wilson’ was delivered to the detectives. Hutch picked it up as Starsky stood behind him reading over his shoulder. Hutch lost his train of thought as Starsky leaned in to get a better look at the information. He had to resist the temptation to rest his head against his partner’s chest and just revel in the proximity of the one person he truly loved. Hutch breathed in Starsky’s scent and sighed.   
“That’s interesting.” Starsky’s words broke into Hutch’s secret world.  
“Mmm …” Hutch mumbled trying to cover the fact that he had not read one word on the paper in his hands. He quickly scanned the printed sheet.

“She had a daughter” Starsky muttered

“Yeah, there was a picture of a pretty blonde girl”

“.. in her graduation robe from high school.” Starsky finished his partner’s sentence.  
The framed picture was hanging in the hall of Margaret Wilson’s house.  
Starsky moved back to his own desk. Hutch put the papers down in front of him and got a cup of coffee. Starsky shook his head when Hutch held an empty cup up for him.

Starsky waited until his partner sat back down before he spoke. “Looks like Maggie has had her share of troubles and then some. Her husband died fourteen years ago of a heart attack and her daughter died two years ago from a drug overdose. Emily was just 23 when she died”  
“It’s odd she didn’t mention her daughter. She told us about her husband’s death but not her daughter’s.” Hutch was back in the groove, concentrating on the case once more.

“That’s a tough one, I wonder if her daughter’s death has anything to do with Maggie’s visits to seedy bars” Starsky said.

“Let’s see what more we can learn about Emily and her death” Hutch replied

“Yeah it’s strange Maggie blamed her insomnia on her husband’s death but didn’t mention her daughter. You know there’s just something a little weird about a respectable widow visiting late night bars and giving hookers money.”

“Well we’ve no other leads so we might as well follow up on Maggie.” Starsky bent over the file and said “Here it is, both of the other victims where killed near latr night bars, so let’s check to see if Maggie is a regular in any of those.”

Hutch smiled. “I like it when we have a plan. There’s not a lot of information on Emily but it looks like she dropped out of the Bay City University so let’s make that our first call and check out those bars in the evening.”

“It’s going to be another long day” Starsky said as he stood up and reached for his well-worn brown leather jacket.

The middle-aged woman in the Bay City University Admin. Dept. was very helpful and pulled Emily Wilson’s record very quickly. Starsky and Hutch read over the file while standing side by side at a wooden counter. Each was aware of the other’s proximity but they were so used to sharing the same space that it felt natural.

Emily Wilson had been a bright straight A student studying American History and Politics and she pulled good grades in her first year but the second semester in second year she was failing. There were notes from a counsellor she had visited on campus. Hutch asked was the counsellor available to meet with them but was informed that she had retired a year ago, the clerk adding that it was unlikely the counsellor would remember a student from three years ago as they saw so many students over the years.

Starsky had continued reading the counsellor’s notes while Hutch had spoken to the clerk. “Hutch, listen to this” he said and Hutch turned his attention back to his partner.  
“It was on page three in the counsellor’s notes, ‘Met with Emily and her mother today, Mrs Wilson and I both tried to persuade the girl to go to a clinic to help her get off drugs but to no avail. Emily became upset and stormed out of the meeting. Mrs Wilson told me Emily is seeing a boy called Greg Powell who is a drug user and possibly a drug pusher. Mrs Wilson is terrified for her daughter and I have to agree she had grounds to be concerned.’” Starsky stopped reading and looked at Hutch. He continued reading the notes. “I will try and talk to Emily again.” Hutch there’s just one more entry made a month later. ‘Emily had dropped out of college, her mother called me but I was unable to offer her any comfort.’” Neither detective made any comment. Hutch returned the file to the clerk and they left the building.

Back in the car Hutch asked the dispatcher for Records and requested information on Greg Powell; exact birth date unknown but was probably under thirty years of age.

“Well, what have we got?” Starsky asked as they drove off campus.

“We have a lonely woman who likes to befriend young women who are involved with low lifes” Hutch answered.

“I’ve got a feeling about Maggie and it’s not a good one” Starsky said.

“Playing Devil’s Advocate here, Starsk, maybe Maggie is lonely and looking or trying to help girls who resemble her daughter” Hutch responded.

“Maybe, Hutch, but later let’s see if she is known in any of the late bars.”

“She didn’t mention any bars situated near the other victims, Starsk, so maybe she isn’t involved” Hutch said.

“We’ll see.”

After a dinner of burgers and fries at ‘The Pits’ and a promise from Huggy to find out anything he could about Maggie, the detectives began their trawl through bars in the vicinity of the other murders. Nothing was known about Maggie in the first or second bar but they got lucky in the third.

The bar was called ‘Nite Lite’ and the bar tender was in his mid thirties. He had bleached blond hair tied back with a black ribbon, he was so tanned that the skin on his arms looked like parchment. He was also willing to talk, which made a change from the other bartenders they had spoken to.

“I know Maggie, she’s always got an ear for the girls, she couldn’t be in any kind of trouble because she’s like your grandma, you know?” Mike the bartender told them.

“No, we’re just making inquiries about a murder outside ‘Leaping Lou’s’ that she might have witnessed.” Hutch volunteered the information.

“Wow! That’s amazing; she was here the night Dean was killed” Mike exclaimed.

“She was here that night?” Hutch asked.

“Oh yeah, when I opened up next day the talk was all about Dean’s death and one of the girls said how lucky it was that Maggie had left before him, otherwise she might have been killed.”

“Where you questioned about Dean’s movements that day after his death?” Hutch asked, qualifying his question.

“No, no one came here I think some cops asked at ‘Joe’s Place’ but no one came here” Mike answered.

“Terrific!” Starsky spoke up. “Why the hell weren’t the bars in the neighbourhood contacted?”

“Let it go, Starsk” Hutch answered his partner with a shrug of his shoulders that implied they both knew sloppy police work when they saw it.

They asked Mike if he’d be willing to make an official statement stating that Maggie had been in the bar the night Dean was murdered a block away. Surprisingly Mike was not only willing but eager to visit Parker Center stating “That would be cool.” Hutch gave him his card and said he would see him around noon the next day. They headed home with a ‘good night’ exchanged.

Chapter Four

Starsky collected Hutch and drove like a maniac to Parker Center, just managing to make it to their desks before Captain Dobey arrived. Cynthia, a petite redhead from records dropped some printed sheets on Hutch’s desk and flirted in a most annoying way with the blond. At least it was annoying to Starsky, who felt like telling her his partner didn’t go for carrot tops but he refrained himself.

Hutch smiled as he took the information but didn’t bother flirting with the girl. Starsky grinned, that was ‘his Hutch’; where did ‘his’ come into the equation? He brought his mind back to his partner as Hutch placed the sheets in front of him.

“I think we have it, Starsk, Greg Edward Powell, died of a drug overdose four months ago. He’s the only one who fits the age profile. His mother, Mary Powell is listed as next of kin. Do you think it’s worth visiting her? Or are we going on a wild goose chase?”

“I think it’s worth a shot. There’s something about Maggie that just doesn’t add up. Maybe it’s a hunch but I think we should run with it.”

Hutch smiled “Come on there’s no time like the present.”

Mary Powell lived in a comfortable apartment in a well-kept development. A tall thin woman opened the door to the detectives. They were invited in after they produced their I.D.s. Hutch said they were doing some follow up work and would she mind telling them a little about her late son.

Mary Powell reached for a framed photograph and passed it to Hutch. “That was taken during Greg’s last year in high school.” 

Hutch studied the photograph – a young man with light brown hair and a big grin stared out at the world. “He was a very handsome boy” Hutch volunteered as he passed the photo back to the woman.

She ran her fingers lovingly over the glass and put the photo back on a shelf. “Greg was a good boy; he and his sister Elsa were very close.” She sighed and carried on. “I should say he was a good boy until about 17 then everything changed. He got in with a bad crowd, his grades slipped and he barely managed to graduate from high school. My husband and I tried talking to him and Elsa tried too but he just wasn’t our sweet boy anymore. It was like having a stranger in the house and it all came to a head when he hit my husband. Mike got a black eye and we literally threw Greg out of the house.” The woman wilted into an armchair while the detectives remained standing. Mary Powell seemed to steel herself to carry on. “Our hearts were broken, but Elsa, she’s a year older than Greg, kept in touch with him. Drugs had a hold of him and he didn’t succeed in getting away from them. Over the last five years he was always in some kind of trouble.” Mary began to cry. “Elsa got married a couple of years ago so we sold the house and moved in here. I still kept in contact with Greg. Well at least he kept in touch with me. Every time he needed money he’d call and we’d meet. Not here, never in the apartment. Mike wouldn’t allow him to come here. Sixteen months ago he was found dead on the street, my phone number was in his pocket. The police, everybody was so kind. I insisted on seeing him; I had to say goodbye.”

Hutch broke the silence. “I’m so sorry to put you through this but was Greg involved with any particular woman?” he asked gently.

The woman dabbed ineffectually at her eyes. “That’s all right, Detective. Greg dated a lovely girl a few years back, he called me when she died; a drug overdose as well I believe.”

“Was her name Emily Wilson?” Starsky asked.

“Yes, I believe that was her name. I met her a couple of times, she was very pretty and obviously well brought up.”

“Mrs Powell, after Greg died did anybody contact you about him?” Starsky probed gently.

“No, we put his death in the newspaper; no matter what, he was our son. A few of his old class mates came to the funeral but that was all.”

“Thank you Mrs Powell and again we’re sorry for making you recall Greg’s death” Starsky said

The woman smiled “It was no trouble; I relive Greg’s life and death in my head every day. Can you tell me why you are interested in Greg?” she asked.

Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance and Starsky spoke up. “Three young men, all drug addicts were shot and killed in the last few weeks and Greg’s name was mentioned in the course of our investigation.” Starsky didn’t lie; he had simply been sparing with the details.

The detectives left the house and drove away. “What do you think Starsk?” Hutch asked as they drove.

“I think we should make another trip to Maggie’s and see if we can build a better picture of what’s going on” he answered

Hutch requested information on whether any weapons were registered in Maggie’s name while Starsky drove towards ‘The Pits’. 

The bar was quiet in the late afternoon and while the men waited on their order of burgers and fries Huggy told them there was little happening on the streets. He had no information on Maggie Wilson but that was hardly surprising as Maggie was from the ‘burbs’ and Huggy was strictly an inner city mover. 

Back in the car the dispatcher informed them that there was no gun permit held by Maggie Wilson but there was one for a .22 gun registered to her husband.

“Do you think we have enough for a search warrant?” Starsky mused. 

“It’s pretty circumstantial and that new D.A. doesn’t like circumstance” Hutch replied.

“I know you’re right but I think we’re onto something with Maggie.” 

“What about calling on her tomorrow and seeing if we can bluff our way about her late husband’s gun.” Hutch suggested.

Starsky smiled as only Starsky could, igniting a feeling deep in Hutch’s psyche. He asked, “Okay what are you thinking?”  
“We drop my car at your place, grab a few hours sleep and pick up your latest disaster on wheels and watch Maggie to see where she goes.” Starsky beamed at Hutch and Hutch knew he was lost.

“Okay. Let’s hope Maggie goes out tonight” he answered.

“It’s Christmas, babe, loneliest time of the year, she’ll go to a bar, but maybe just to drink.”

Hutch swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and nodded.

The night was chilly, at least as chilly as it ever got in Southern California. Starsky and Hutch were seated in Hutch’s decrepit brown Ford. It was parked at the end of Maggie’s road amid a solid line of cars parked beside the sidewalk. One of Maggie’s neighbors was having a party so there was lots of comings and goings and slamming of car doors. They had been given a great cover. All they had to do was either smile and nod at people as they emerged from their cars or slide down in their seats if they didn’t want to be seen.

Hutch asked Starsky about their Christmas plans and his partner answered him. “I have it all arranged with Mrs Brensteen in the local Mom & Pop store. I gave her the list for our Christmas food and she’ll get it organized and hold on to it until I get a chance to collect it. And I have presents for Dobey, Rosie, Cal Edith, Huggy, Keiko, Molly and Maria.”

Hutch reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out after Christmas, that’s when I always come up short waiting for the first January pay day.”

“After buying all those presents you must be all tapped out” Hutch said

“No, I’ve been saving for the last few months; I’m good for a while.”

Just then they saw the rear lights of Maggie’s car turn red. They slipped down in the seats and Hutch started the engine and they followed Maggie’s car. It was 12.45 and the traffic was light to non- existent as they made their way from Maggie’s middle class neighbourhood and through mildly run down areas and finally into Bay City’s seedier streets.

Hutch had pulled further back as they reached the neighborhood of bars and strip joints but Maggie’s car was clearly visible. Maggie pulled into a parking lot beside a bar called ‘Reds’. She got out and went inside. Hutch pulled into the lot as well and parked a few spaces away from Maggie’s car. They had a clear view of the door. Hutch killed the engine. “This could be a wild goose chase” he said to Starsky 

“Could be but I don’t think so” Starsky replied.

Hutch could hardly believe it.  
“Rudy the Red Nosed Reindeer” Starsky sang softly.  
Hutch found his fingers drumming against the steering wheel in time with Starsky’s singing. Maybe everything would be okay now that Starsky was coming back to himself. Hutch thought as the singing continued. Starsky came to the end of the carol and turned to Hutch “You got all your presents bought?”

“Pretty much” Hutch answered then grinned. “I’m not telling you what I got for you.”

“Well, as long as it’s not another tree it’ll be okay.”

Starsky dozed in the passenger seat as Hutch watched the bar. It was a busy establishment with people coming and going. “Hookers, Pimps and Pushers.” Hutch sang in his head replacing Cher’s words of “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves”. The hours crawled slowly by.

Starsky jerked awake about 3.15 and sat up. He yawned and stretched out his hand to rub his neck. “Want to grab some shut eye?” he asked Hutch.

“No, I’m all right. How long do you reckon she’ll stay in there?”

“Well she normally only has one bourbon according to the bartenders and the lady herself and there’s a limit to the number of ginger ales she can drink so it can’t be much longer” Starsky said, looking at the luminous dial on his watch.

Hutch closed his eyes and the minutes ticked by. The bar had obviously quietened as the door to it swung open and closed less often.

“Couldn’t imagine my Ma drinking in a place like this” Starsky said. 

Hutch laughed thinking of his own mother; elegant and sure of herself. He opened his eyes “My Mom only drinks in the Country Club. I don’t think she knows places like this exist.”  
The door of the bar opened, spilling light and noise into the car park. Maggie emerged and looked around the lot.

“Hutch” Starsky said softly.

Hutch opened his eyes.

Maggie opened her handbag and walked away from the door. She didn’t go to her car but instead moved out of the light from the door and into the dark cover of the building. She was concealed in shadow and was virtually impossible to see from Hutch’s car or the door of the bar.

Hutch flicked the switch of the interior light of his car so that it wouldn’t come on when the doors were opened. “Think we should get nearer?” he asked

“Yeah, let’s see what she’s up to” Starsky replied.

Almost simultaneously they got out of the car and used the cover of the other cars to move closer to Maggie’s position. Starsky was nearer to Maggie by about two yards. Maggie held something in her hand and was watching the door of the bar so was facing away from the detectives.

The door opened and a tall white man emerged. He moved out of the light of the doorway towards Maggie and lit a cigarette. He spotted Maggie as she came towards him.  
“Hey, woman, what are you doing interfering between me and Cindy?”

Maggie kept walking towards him. “I’m just a silly old woman, Ricky, but I had a daughter who fell in love, without someone like you.”

“Maggie, don’t do it” Starsky called out.

Hutch shouted at the startled Ricky. “Move!”. The man ran towards Hutch, effectively cutting off Hutch’s line of fire with Maggie.

Maggie spun around towards Starsky and a weapon was in her hand. Starsky moved towards her, reaching out his left hand to take her gun while moving his own weapon to his right hand.

“He’s scum; I’m just cleaning up; making the world a better place.” Maggie said to Starsky.

“Maggie, that’s not for you to decide; you can’t be judge, jury and executioner. Your victims have people who care about them.” Starsky’s voice was strong and intense.  
Hutch moved into position between Maggie and the intended victim as his partner was speaking. He signalled to the man to move away while he still covered Starsky.  
Maggie sobbed. Starsky spoke again. “This morning Hutch and I had to tell a woman she’d never see her son again, you know what it feels like to lose a child. You can’t inflict that on any more mothers; you know that, Maggie.” 

It all happened in the blink of an eye. The intended victim suddenly realized what was happening. “Jesus! The bitch is trying to kill me.” He shouted as he ran away. Starsky, seeing the victim flee realized Hutch was in Maggie’s direct line and immediately moved closer to her and turned her attention from his partner.

“Maggie it has to stop. Give me the gun and we’ll talk about it.”

Maggie had switched her attention from Starsky when she heard her victim shout. Now once again Starsky’s words broke into her thoughts. She spun towards him, dropping her handbag away from her shoulder as she did. Starsky reached out to take the gun from her and somehow the momentum of the falling handbag caused Maggie to fumble and the gun fired.

Starsky grunted as the bullet hit him in the chest and he fell to the ground, his own weapon falling from his grasp. 

Maggie screamed, “Oh God! Oh no! Please, I’m so sorry.”

Hutch reholstered his Magnum, pulled Maggie’s arms behind her and handcuffed her.   
Hutch was at his partner’s side within a few moments. “Starsk, let me see” he commanded. Starsky was lying on his left side, clutching his chest.

“Oh God! Hutch it hurts.”

“It’s all right, babe.” Hutch pulled a hanky from his pants pocket and pressed it against the wound, pushing Starsky’s hands away gently. Within a few moments the white material turned crimson. Starsky grunted as Hutch pushed against the wound.  
Hutch looked around. The bar door opened and a man walked out, scanned the scene in front of him and scurried back inside, shutting out the bright lights of the bar.  
“Starsky, easy now.” Hutch placed Starsky’s right hand over the hanky. “I have to call in; keep pressure on it, Starsk, I’ll be right back.”

Starsky was breathing hard now “Okay” he whispered.

Hutch fled to his car, radioed in for an ambulance and back up and was back at his partner’s side within a minute. Hutch pulled another handkerchief from his pocket and moving his partner’s hand away put more pressure on the wound.

“Hutch, this doesn’t look too good.” Starsky’s voice was pain-filled.

“Easy, Starsk, just take it easy.” Hutch pressed firmly against the wound. “I know you didn’t want to cook Christmas dinner but this is a pretty extreme way out of it.” Hutch wriggled out of his tan leather jacket and somehow managed to ease it under his partner’s head without letting up on the pressure against the wound. Maggie cried softly in the background.  
“Listen.”

“Shush, babe, just concentrate on my voice; I know it hurts like hell but the ambulance will be here soon.”

“Hutch,” Starsky gasped “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Hutch looked up to see if there was any sign of flashing blue lights then returned his gaze to his partner.

“I love you.”

“I know that, Starsky, I love you too.”

“No, I should have told you; I really love you.”

“Starsk!” Hutch looked at his partner. But Starsky had passed out.

Hutch felt for Starsky’s carotid pulse and was relieved when he felt the beat of Starsky’s heart under his fingertips, weak, but still there.

Chapter Five  
The ambulance arrived as a couple of police cruisers pulled in. The uniformed officers took over the scene while the paramedics applied a pressure dressing to Starsky’s wound. Hutch was relieved of his duty of trying to stem the bleeding. Starsky was loaded onto a stretcher very quickly. Hutch entered the ambulance, just taking his eyes off Starsky long enough to tell a uniformed officer to read Maggie her rights and charge her with three counts of murder and one of assault with a deadly weapon.

The ambulance sped away and the medic set up an IV line into the back of Starsky’s left hand to administer saline. Starsky didn’t regain consciousness for the journey and when Hutch tried to follow his partner into the E.R. a small, sturdy drill sergeant of a nurse blocked his way and told him to give his partner’s details at reception. For a moment it looked like Hutch was going to ignore her and follow his partner but she stood her ground and firmly but kindly said. “Detective, you have to let us do our job just like you do yours.” 

Hutch backed off.

Tinges of orange daylight were beginning to appear outside the small windows of the E.R. waiting area when Harold Dobey came in. He spotted Hutch at once, the detective was sitting on one of the orange plastic chairs that seemed to have an existence that was just for hospital waiting rooms. He was the only one seated in that line and he looked worried and pale. Dobey approached him. “Hutch, how bad?” he asked.  
Hutch transferred his attention from reliving every detail of the shooting in his mind to his commanding officer. “A chest wound, a .22 calibre from … way too close.” He felt drained as he spoke.

Dobey sighed and sat down beside Him. “Starsky’s as strong as an ox and Edith is praying.” He left the sentence hang in the air and they sat and waited together.

“Detective….., Hutchinson?” The young doctor checked a chart he was holding and scanned the waiting room. Hutch and Dobey stood up together. To Hutch’s eyes the doctor looked impossibly young; he was Asian with neatly cut black hair. The three men drew aside. “Detective Hutchinson.” He looked at his clip board as checking that he had the name right, Hutch was just one more concerned family member he had to speak with. He continued on. “We have stabilized Detective Starsky and he has been taken to the O.R. we will have a much clearer picture once the bullet is removed. The O.R. waiting room is on the 3rd floor so if you want to wait there the surgeon will come and speak to you.”

Hutch felt numb and Dobey thanked the doctor who was already on his way out of the waiting room. “Come on, Hutch” Dobey said and the two men headed for the elevators.

They didn’t say anything on the short ride to the third floor. On the way to the waiting room they passed a men’s room and Dobey stopped. “Hutch, you need to wash your hands.” Dobey said in a fatherly voice. 

Hutch looked at his hands and noticed they were bloody.  
In the men’s wash room Hutch scrubbed at his hands and the lukewarm water turned pink in the sink. He threw some water on his face and rubbed it through his moustache.

He entered the waiting room and Dobey handed him a plastic cup with hot sweet coffee. He drank it without tasting the liquid and it burned its way to his stomach. They were the only two people in the waiting room and Dobey asked him what had happened. Hutch told him the events in a mechanical voice, which only quivered when he got to the shooting. Dobey reached out and dug his fingers into Hutch’s left shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“I should have seen what was going to happen. I had my mind on Maggie’s target and I took my eyes off Starsky” Hutch moaned.

“Hutch, stop this right now. You were both doing your jobs and by the way you tell it it looks like that woman didn’t mean to shoot Dave.” And more gently Dobey went on. “There was nothing you could have done, son.”

“I could have saved my partner from getting shot” Hutch said softly.

Silence fell between them as each man kept his thoughts to himself. 

The silence of the room was shattered by the opening of the door. A tall man with grey hair entered. He wore a pristine white coat over a set of green scrubs. “Are you here for Detective David Starsky?” he asked them.

They both stood up and Dobey stuck out his hand. “I’m Harold Dobey, Starsky’s commanding officer and this is Ken Hutchinson his partner.”

The doctor shook their hands firmly and introduced himself as Bill Ireland, Starsky’s surgeon. He smiled at them. “Detective Starsky is one lucky man; the bullet entered the right side of his chest and broke one of his ribs. that probably saved his life because it stopped the bullet before it could hit any vital organs.”

Hutch broke in, “There was so much blood.” His mind shifted back to Starsky’s blood pumping on to his handkerchief as he exerted pressure on the wound.

“He suffered severe blood loss; to be frank it must have looked like he was bleeding out, but we were able to repair the damage. Barring any complications Detective Starsky should make a complete recovery. Though I’d say he’s going to be pretty sore.” 

“Thank God” Dobey said and the doctor smiled.

“Well, it is Christmas and that surely is the time for miracles. Detective Starsky is in recovery, he’ll be brought up to a room shortly and I’ll get one of the nurses to come and get you when he’s settled. I’m sure you’d like to see him for a few minutes to reassure yourselves.”

Hutch managed to say, “Thank you” and Dobey nodded in agreement.

The doctor beamed at them “I am always delighted to deliver good news. Merry Christmas, gentlemen.”

“He’s all right; he’s going to be all right.” Hutch smiled at Dobey who replied, “I’ll go and call Edith.”

Dobey returned from calling his wife and the precinct and a few minutes later a short dark-haired nurse let them in to see Starsky

Starsky lay pale against the white pillow. He was receiving blood through an IV line into his left arm and a white bandage on his chest was peeping out from where the sheet lay doubled back on itself.

Dobey looked at his unconscious detective for a few moments. He squeezed Hutch’s arm and said, “I’ll wait outside and give you a ride home when you’re ready.”

Hutch nodded but didn’t take his eyes off his partner. He heard Dobey close the door softly.

Hutch moved to the right side of Starsky’s bed and took his hand. “Babe, you’re going to be fine.” Hutch smiled and carried on. “But boy will you be bummed to see the IV in your left arm. I told you, buddy, the world belongs to right handed people.” Hutch stopped talking. Did it really take something this scary to happen before you could tell me how you felt?

Out loud he said. “I love you, Starsk.” And he leaned over and kissed Starsky’s forehead.

It was midday before Dobey and Hutch reached Parker Center. One of the uniformed officers had driven Hutch’s car back to the station. Dobey wanted Hutch to go home but Hutch decided to write up his report first.

Minnie dropped by to see how her ‘boy’ was doing as did several detectives and uniformed officers but Hutch was glad of the interruptions because it meant he was kept too busy to dwell on ‘what ifs’. After he finished the report and put it in Dobey’s ‘in’ tray he called the D.A. to see what was happening about Maggie. Dobey had told him that Jimmy Lavelle, one of the older experienced detectives, had conducted or at least tried to conduct an interview with Maggie but the woman had been too upset to make much sense. The D. A, told Hutch that Maggie was in the psych ward of the jail. Her sister was travelling to see her and she had arranged a lawyer for her. He added that it would be after Christmas before his office would decide a plea with Maggie’s lawyer.

Hutch called the hospital and was told Starsky was sleeping. Huggy called Hutch; the news was all over the streets. The Bear was relieved to hear Starsky was all right and told Hutch he would drop by the hospital the next day.

Dobey called Hutch into his office and told him to go home and rest. Hutch headed to his apartment and by the time he reached there he was running on empty. He took off his clothes, lay on his bed and was asleep within minutes.

It was dark when Hutch woke and for a moment he was confused. The clock on his bedside table read 6.30p.m.. He had slept for about three hours. He took a quick shower and headed to the hospital.

Starsky was in a two bed room but he was the only patient there. Hutch slid into a chair beside the bed and for a few minutes just watched his friend sleep [. The IV had been removed as had the catheter . A nurse named Maureen, who was middle aged and matronly, told Hutch that Starsky had been conscious earlier and he had insisted he could handle his own bodily functions. She laughed quietly and said Dave didn’t appear to have too much pain but was in a lot of discomfort. She took note of her patient’s vital signs and left the room.

“Hey.” Starsky whispered.

“Hey yourself” Hutch responded with a huge grin. “How are you feeling, Starsk?

“Like I got hit by a truck but the doctor told me I’m lucky and I have to agree.” Starsky winced as he finished speaking.

“We’re lucky, babe. Here let me help you.” Hutch fussed around as Starsky tried to sit up. Hutch pressed a button and the upper part of the bed rose slowly. He noticed Starsky’s grimace. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, if this was a cowboy movie I’d be riding into the sunset.” Starsky tried for levity. He fumbled for a glass on his locker and Hutch was there in a moment. He held the glass to Starsky’s lips and his friend took a few small sips.

“That’s better.” Starsky said as he closed his eyes. He opened then again and looked at Hutch. “What’s happening to Maggie?”

“She’s in the psych ward of the jail, D.A’s not sure how to proceed until after Christmas. Her sister is travelling to see her” Hutch said, fumbling with the water glass.

“Hutch” It was said so faintly that Hutch barely heard his name.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I said something after I got shot.” Starsky was hesitant.

“I know, you said something I should have had the nerve to say” Hutch replied.

“Do you mean that or is it just an answer for the sick guy in the hospital bed?” Starsky asked with a soft smile but Hutch was watching his partner’s eyes and there was no humor there. Only apprehension. 

“I’ve never lied to you Starsky and I’m still here; the details we can work out later when you’re feeling better.” Hutch leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips.

“That was nice but I sure hope you can do better than that” Starsky said and he reached his hand out and stroked Hutch’s moustache. 

“I thought you hated soapy scenes” Hutch said, moving Starsky’s hand from his face and kissing the fingers. He turned his head away after a few moments. “You should rest, babe.” He said.

“Yeah, I hate to be a party pooper but you’re right.” Starsky closed his eyes.

Chapter six

The next morning Hutch stopped by Starsky’s place. He folded clean clothes, pjs and a robe into a bag and looked around the place. Starsky hadn’t put up a Christmas tree and Hutch sighed. It was Christmas day. Hutch was in the kitchen when he heard the doorbell. He opened it to find an elderly couple standing on the landing. Both of them had grey hair topped with red Santa hats and each of them was holding a cardboard box; the man’s looked larger than that in his companion’s hand. Hutch stammered “Can I help you?”

The old man spoke. “I’m Fred Brenstein and this is my wife Dot; you must be Hutch?”

Hutch was momentarily thrown and the man as if sensing Hutch’s apprehension carried on. “You’re Dave’s partner, is he around? We guessed he must be working on something important as he didn’t collect his groceries so we thought we’d bring them over on our way to church.”

“Has something happened to David?” Dot said, moving the box in her arms.

“Sorry let me take that from you” Hutch said as he reached out and took the box from her hands. “Starsky had a little trouble yesterday; he’s in hospital but he’s all right. In fact that’s why I’m here. I’m collecting clean clothes for him. I’m hoping they will release him in the next day or two.”

“Oh my! You boys have such a dangerous job.” Dot was tearing up. Fred stepped in. 

“Now, Dot, I am sure Hutch, you don’t mind us calling you that?” He hurried on not giving Hutch any time to answer. “It’s just we feel we know you from the way David speaks about you. Anyway you give him our regards.” The man turned to his wife after putting the box he was carrying down in the doorway.

“Tell him we’ll say prayers for him.” Dot smiled.

“How much do I owe you?” Hutch asked the man.

“David will come by and fix us up when he’s feeling better. Merry Christmas.”   
Dot reached up on her tippy toes and kissed Hutch’s cheek.

Hutch put the groceries away and left for the hospital. All the way there he had butterflies in his stomach and he found himself humming ‘Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.’

Starsky was sitting up in bed and some of his color had returned. He beamed at Hutch. “Merry Christmas, partner” he said with a heavy emphasis on ‘partner’.

“You too, Starsk” Hutch replied.

“Are you as nervous as me?” Starsky asked.

“Yeah. I have enough butterflies in my stomach to start a colony.” Hutch smiled.

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we? Dobey called in after you left last night; just wanted to make sure I was okay. He said he’ll see us when he gets back. The doctor said I’ll probably get out in a couple of days.”

Hutch laughed, “Starsky, you’re babbling; you always do that when you’re nervous.” He leaned over and kissed Starsky. His tongue pushed into Starsky’s very willing mouth and his fingers strayed into his dark curls and nothing had ever seemed so right for Hutch.

“Ahem!”

Hutch pulled away and looked up to see Huggy standing in the room with smile as wide as a mile and a picnic basket straight out of a Yogi Bear cartoon.

“Merry Christmas gentlemen. You both most have been very good boys to get what your hearts desired.” Huggy was clearly enjoying himself immensely.

“Huggy?” Starsky and Hutch chorused together.

“Well, it’s about time you tuned into what was obviously happening between you. My Great Aunt Ruth, who is as blind as a bat would have been able to see what you two have been missing. Some detectives you are.” Huggy stopped talking long enough to place the basket on the end of Starsky’s bed and open it. 

The scent of warm turkey filled the room as he removed two foil covered plates and put them on the sliding tray over the bed. “Here is your Christmas dinner cooked by my best chef and delivered to your door as I believe hospital kitchens aren’t up to this standard.” Huggy produced two plastic glasses and a large bottle of water.

Hutch blushed and Starsky smiled. “Thanks Hug, what did we ever do to deserve your friendship?”

“I find myself asking that every time I tally up your tabs. Now I have to fly as there is a big gathering of family at my Aunt Beth’s place and I can’t miss it.” Huggy placed the basket on the floor. 

“Merry Christmas, Hug “ Starsky said.

Huggy smiled and left the room with Hutch close on his heels. Outside Starsky’s room, they stopped. “Huggy, this, this thing with Starsky is just new, and well I don’t…” Hutch stammered.

Huggy sighed. “Your secret is safe with me and just so you and Starsky know I’m, happy for you both. Now go back inside and enjoy your lunch.”

“Thanks, Hug.”

The partners ate their lunch and except for a couple of discreet visits from one of the nurses on duty they had the day to themselves. Hutch confessed that he had forgotten to bring Starsky’s present with him but Starsky, far from being upset about that, just said they could have their own private Christmas when he got out of hospital then he started to giggle.

“What/” Hutch asked with a huge smile on his face.  
“I had planned to tell you how I felt when I gave you your present.”

“Yeah, you had really planned to tell me.”

“Well, yes and no.”

“Starsky you’re not making sense.”

“Okay, here goes; I bought you a present, and I ain’t going to tell you what it is. You’ll just have to wait. But I also bought you another present that I was hoping to have the nerve to give to you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a book I picked up in this really neat book shop; it’s called ‘How to Make Love to Another Man’ and I was hoping when you saw it that you wouldn’t kick my teeth in and I hoped you’d understand what I was trying to tell you.” Starsky looked uneasy.

“I’m looking forward to reading it.”

“Well, there ain’t much reading but there are sure a lot of diagrams.” Starsky beamed at him.

“Well, look at the fun we can have trying out the diagrams.” He leaned in for a long lingering kiss, which he only broke away from when he heard Starsky grunt.

“Sorry, are you okay, Starsk?”

“Never better, I’ve never been better. It’s only a rib, Hutch, and I guess it just means we’ll have to be careful following the more adventurous positions.” “For now” he added as an afterthought.

“This is the Christmas that changed everything, Starsk, I nearly lost you and I never want to go through that again.” Hutch closed his eyes and kissed Starsky on the lips. He drew away and Starsky smiled and said. “Who knows, Hutch, you might even begin to like Christmas.”


End file.
